Victory
by Lasaravis
Summary: Ulic Qel-Droma learns a bit about the Dark from Exar Kun, and muses on an impending victory. ExarUlic slashyness with a twist of lime. R&R please.


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Author's Notes: Yeah. Been awhile since I've written any SW stuff, and I found this floating half-finished on my computer. Incredibly, the muse struck, and _whoop, here it is!_

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Disclaimer: I have no ownership of rights to anything. The god in human form, known as Gorge Lucas does. But if you didn't know that, why are you here?

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Rating: R

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Pairing: Exar Kun/Ulic Qel-Droma (what is it with me and SW rareslash?)

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Warnings: Lime bordering on lemon, slashyness.

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Feedback: Please feed the author. sadako_the_wacko@hotmail.com 

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VICTORY

THE AIR IN the room was heavy and thick with the musky smell of sex; the lush, weighted drapes covering the windows preventing the hot aroma of sweat and semen from escaping into the cool night. A heavy mahogany bed lay in the corner; its hangings of a dark material, trapping the redolence of men and the noise of flesh on flesh in its trappings. 

Fine, ebony hair cascaded around Exar Kun's broad shoulders and back, eyes the color of expensive artist's charcoal almost black with the passion of the moment, as he leaned over his apprentice, filling him to the breaking point, chiseled thigh muscles bunching as he drove his drooling cock into he man under him. 

Ulic pulled his legs yet wider apart, drawing his knees even higher against his torso, chestnut hair scattered across the dark pillow as he groaned and grunted, the salacious, wet sounds driving him to apex. Dark, weeping erection in hand, he bucked his hips up in time with his master's thrusts, driving the big man even harder into him. Sweat poured down his chest, stinging his pink nipples, tender from brutal biting and sucking; giving a shine to his fair skin. 

He drove his master in deeper, aroused even further by the big man's lust to dominate over him, proven by the deep groans and moans the Sith Lord's usually so cultured voice uttered. With all his strength Ulic dug his nails deep into he other man's back, the sticky wetness a testament of blood on his fingers.

His brutality only increased the excitement however, the handsome, sharp features of his master's face contorted, and the wild pounding grew even more rough, the vicious and guttural mating nearing an end for both. The smaller man's erect penis streaming a creamy fluid now, as his master hit that wickedly sensitive spot inside him, driving him farther and faster and harder than ever before, a rage to their sex, pushing him rapidly to the edge, filling him and emptying him impossibly quickly, herding this sinister, dark passion…

With a horse, husky cry he exploded, testicles drawing up hard against his body, cock jerking as it spurted a searing, rich substance over his abdomen. The raven-haired man came just a second later, angular features twisting; ebony locks plastered with sweat to his back, every muscle taut with the strain of release.

Crying out, the larger man's knees buckled, making him fall on his partner, the liquids of passion on their bodies coating one another's muscles. His master's hot, heavy breaths gusted against his neck, making the fair skin almost sticky.

In his whole life, it had never been like that before. By the gods, never. Never so darkly passionate, never so richly full, never so very, very, sateingly good. 

With a low groan, his master pulled out from inside him, leaving him with a profound sense of loss, and a longing to be filled once again. 

The dark-haired man rolled over onto his back beside Ulic, both of their chests heaving wildly, desperately sucking air into their starved lungs. Ulic licked his swollen lips, the stinging pain the motion resulted in not at all unwelcome. 

Totally relaxed, muscles holding not the slightest bit of tension, Ulic was finally able to feel at ease since turning to the Dark Side. The seductive power within him was starting to settle; a deep, thick weight in his belly, waiting for his command. His decent into the Dark had made him strangely… _full_. As if his very skin was too tight, as if he was bloated with the majesty of it all.

But his Master, this beautiful Dark Lord, had understood, and given him relief. Not for the first time that night, Ulic marveled at the wonderful difference between the delicate, fragile Light and the deep, thrum of the Dark. 

"We move tomorrow." His master, his lover, whispered in his ear. 

"We _win_ tomorrow," he said, a smile on his face. And how could they not? Victory was obvious. How could those pathetic little Jedi stand up to the power he was shown tonight?

A deep chuckle resounded in his ear. "How true," Exar Kun purred, in response.

He turned over on his side, propping his head up on one elbow, to look into the Dark Lord of the Sith's gray eyes. "To victory, then," he said, leaning over so his lips just graced the dark haired Sith's. A smirk curled the corners of that full mouth. 

"Victory."

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END


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